Faith means being sure of the things we hope for
And knowing that something is real even if we do not see it
July 2024
The sun streamed through our bedroom windows, finding every crack between, above and below the curtains. I loved my sunny bedroom, but 4:30am sunrises in summer weren’t so welcomed!
I pulled back the curtains and opened the glass door. Warm humid air greeted me. Ugh! I closed the door, grateful for our air conditioner that was running 24/7. But hang on a minute, the a/c is set at 24 degress, on the dehumidify setting, but yet it still felt hotter outside?! First thing in the morning??!!
And then it hit me. This was the reason why summer felt so awful this year: There was no reprieve.
There were no cool mornings. Nor any cool afternoons or evenings. The heat just didn’t let up! It just kept going with no consideration for those of us who just needed to breathe!
Oh how I missed my Aussie summer! Hot, yes. But each place I’ve lived, there’s always been reprieve in the early morning, afternoon or late evening. The only time there wasn’t was when there was a heatwave!
While I wanted daily reprieve from the heat, and Shujin wanted reprieve from managing the aged-care centre. Or at least, reprieve from the financial stress of the aged-care centre! Finances were getting very low, wages were cut. Again. There were not funds enough for next months wages and Shujin was stressed to say the least.
But there was hope. The gentleman that had visited the centre back in December was now ready to move in. He had inspected the place, been satisfied and returned home to put his affairs in order with the intention to return.
Already in his nineties, it was arranged that Shujin and another staff member would travel half-way across Japan to the elderly gentleman’s home and help him with the move.
A new resident meant a compulsory entry “donation” which would keep them afloat for a good few months. It was scheduled that Shujin would be leaving on the weekend for the big trip.
On Friday, Shujin came home from work utterly dejected.
“The old man died last night,” announced Shujin. Any flicker of hope was completely snuffed out. “We’re stuffed.”
“Only if God wants it that way,” was my response. And I firmly believed it.
As the hot and humid days rolled by, my constant prayer was for God to provide funds for the aged-care centre. The more I prayed, the more I wondered if it was being irresponsible, asking to keep a place open that can’t even financially keep itself afloat!
The place had such a poor business model. It should never have opened from the start. Even if Shujin sacked everyone and took just a humble wage for himself and ran it on his own, it would still be in deficit each month!
Was it right to keep this place open? Or was it irresponsible?
The aged-care centre needed a side business to fund it! Ridiculous!
In the heat of summer, I opened the Bible up to this text:
Faith means being sure of the things we hope, for and knowing that something is real, even if we do not see it. ~ Hebrews 11.1
I had been feeling a bit dejected about the aged-care centre needing some kind of major overhaul in order for it to function viably. I’d started to lean towards the idea that it was best to close it down.
Now this text felt like God was telling me to not give up.
Trust.
Wait.
Have faith.
My prayers took on a new angle. No longer did I pray for funds, but I started praying for God to transform the business into one that would be financially viable.
Shujin, on the other hand, was all for the idea of closing the place down. Yes, it would be a headache to go through the process, but in his mind, it was his get-out-of-jail card. The Chairman of the Board and all board members, however, were keen to keep the place open (but none of the members were willing to put their money where their mouths were!). Shujin was left very frustrated. And stressed!
Shujin pulled on his work overalls, draped a wet towel around his neck, grabbed his hat and pushed his feet into his work boots. Under the scorching sun the field of vegetables was looking a bit wilted from the heat, but the vegetables were still growing. The zucchini were particularly going wild.
As he worked, the neighbour approached Shujin. He had shared a small portion of the aged-care centre’s field with the her and she’d planted a veggie patch. She told Shujin about her corn, that it had been eaten by the wildlife. She pointed across the field and over to the corn that we had planted and advised Shujin that he would need to fence it in order to protect it.
Not long after, Shujin’s uncle who lives just 2 minutes down the road, approached Shujin and told him about his corn getting eaten by wildlife. Lost the whole crop.
“Better fence your corn,” he advised, “or it’s going to get eaten too.”
We had planted the corn late, having been so occupied with renovating the Retreat House for the health retreat. Our corn still had some growing to do so the wildlife wouldn’t be interested in them just yet, but it was surely just a matter of time.
Shujin took the opportunity to throw out a fleece.
“God, if you don’t want this place to close down, then protect the corn from being eaten and I’ll take it as a sign that we shouldn’t close it down.”
He didn’t fence the corn.
